Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Well thanks for that enlightening tidbit,” she muttered and Reyn laughed.

  “I know, right? Why us, and what do we really need to do?”

  “I guess we find that out tomorrow morning at ten sharp,” she said the last bit with Winona Aylesworth’s nasal inflection and patted his arm––Winona’s signature move–– which made him laugh even more.

  “How about I pick you up? Maybe we can call it our first date.” He grinned. “Besides, it’s supposed to rain over the next few days until the first day of the Market.”

  She didn’t know why the rain was a reason for him to pick her up, but she was going all in on this winter queen thing. She was going for it on dating too. For once, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, she was going to go where the magick led. It was Yule, after all.

  “Sounds great, thanks,”

  He looked pleased and they finished the dance and applauded with everyone else. While they stood, she felt magick zinging around the room again and saw little globes of golden, magick-filled mistletoe darting around. They would hover over people’s heads until they kissed.

  “Oh, look at that,” she said, charmed by the sight of an elderly gentleman she didn’t know bending down to kiss a young woman in a wheelchair. Across the room, another globe of mistletoe zipped in to hang over a couple who were obviously not happy with one another. Their friends pointed and insisted, and the two reluctantly kissed. It changed from duty to pleasure in a few moments, and Annie wasn’t the only one to notice.

  “Now that’s interesting.” Reyn said what she’d been thinking. His husky voice was right at her ear. It sent a shiver down her arms and she rubbed them to settle herself.

  “What’s interesting?”

  “I think some of our coven friends are playing mischief makers. Look,” he said, pointing surreptitiously at another couple across the room. They were very subtly angled away from one another, as if they weren’t interested. Their body language, however, told a different story. “Bet they get a mistletoe present in a mom….yep, there it is.”

  “Oh, my.” Annie couldn’t help either the giggle or the blush as the two locked lips.

  “Get a room, right?”

  Another snort of laughter escaped, and Reyn joined in. In a moment, they were repaid for their merriment at others’ expense because a bright gold ball of magick-encased mistletoe made a hard left turn in mid-air to stop right over their heads.

  Reyn looked down at her, a smile lighting both his lips and his eyes. “We are caught once again, my queen. Third time’s a charm, right?”

  “I do believe you’re right, my king,” she said and, when he bent to kiss her, she slid her hand up to his neck and pulled him closer. It was only a little dare, just to herself, to see if she could do it. She let him go right away, but his skin was so hot, so firm under her hand that she immediately wanted to do it again.

  Applause rang out as Annie broke the kiss. Reyn could see that she was blushing furiously, but he’d had a taste of her now. He wanted more. Whether or not the mischief-makers were helping, he was going to claim another kiss before the night was over. He was considering doing it right away, but they were interrupted.

  “My king, would you dance with your subject?”

  “My queen, a dance?”

  Two members of the town council had arrived in front of them. Annie looked up at him and he shrugged. He let himself touch the back of her waist, give a little rub. “I’ll rescue you if you’re getting your toes stepped on,” he whispered in her ear.

  She shot him a grateful look before accepting the hand of the gentleman. Before Reyn could get another dance, she’d danced with the mayor, Pere Hestworth, several teenagers, and Old Mr. Robb who still ran marathons even though he was pushing eighty.

  “Look at you, wearing a crown,” his friend Stan said, handing him an icy bottle of beer. The Ghostly Harbor IPA went down like silk.

  “Yeah, and a sword too, so look out, dude.”

  Stan took a look around, and Reyn almost laughed at the attempt to be surreptitious. Seeing the coast was clear, Stan asked, “So what did you hear about the job?”

  Reyn took another sip of beer. Stan was the only one who knew about the restless impulse that had led him to apply for a job in Kalamazoo, Michigan, at a fire department three times the size of Haven Harbor’s.

  “They want me to come for an interview next week.”

  “Well, shit, that’s great!” Stan looked at him. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Reyn tried to sound enthusiastic but he wasn’t feeling it tonight.

  “I hear we’re going to get a dusting of snow,” Stan said as some people breezed by, saying hello before moving on.

  “So, I saw you kissing your queen,” Stan said casually, when they were alone again. “What’s that about?”

  “I like her. I liked her before she became queen.” Reyn realized he sounded defensive. “Have you ever been to one of her cooking classes?”

  “Me?” Stan looked at him like he’d grown snakes for hair. “Why the hell would I do that? Myra’s a superior cook. She doesn’t need me screwing around in the kitchen.”

  “You grill.”

  “Yeah, but that’s different than cooking. Cooking’s art. Grilling is just…”

  “Manly,” Reyn said, laughing. Men grilling was like men hammering, he realized. Blunt and to the point. No flourishes.

  “Exactly,” Stan agreed, but he looked pleased. “You gave me a heck of an idea for a Yule present for her, though.”

  “Cooking classes?”

  “Hell no. She doesn’t need ‘em. A gift certificate, though, that’s the ticket. She loves that place.”

  “I’ve never been in Annie’s shop,” Reyn said, taking a swig of the IPA as he processed that thought. How could he have never gone into one of the most thriving shops in town? People were always talking about Annie’s classes and the Friday meet-ups at her store. They praised her sales of the Haven Harbor Witches Cookbook and her store window displays. They talked about what a great source she was for baking ingredients.

  “Don’t tell Myra you haven’t been there or she’ll drag you in and make you buy new pots or something.” This last was uttered quietly, as Stan’s wife was coming their way. Reyn leaned in to kiss Myra’s cheek when she arrived.

  “Good job, Reyn,” Myra said, as she slipped her arm around her husband’s waist. “Pretty cool that you got chosen king. Hasn’t been one of our age group for a while now.”

  “True. I don’t know how I’m going to manage it, working and doing this.”

  “You’ll do fine. The whole town will help you,” Myra said, taking a sip of the beer she was holding. “It’s a good thing you like the queen, though. You’ll be spending a lot of the holiday with her.”

  “Yeah, so Winona said.” He found he liked the prospect of spending time with the oh-so-interesting Annie Boylston.

  The thing that worried Reyn wasn’t Annie, it was job interview. How would he keep that on the down-low?

  “Hey there, winter king,” a sultry voice purred at his elbow. “Can I claim a dance?”

  Reba Jones, former prom queen, former Boston socialite, and recently divorced man-killer, slipped her arm through his.

  “Hey Stan, hey Myra,” she said, and Reyn saw Myra bristle. Myra had been a cheerleader and valedictorian in their graduating class. Reba had stolen her then-boyfriend and spread the rumor that Myra was pregnant.

  Old grudges die hard. He’d known Reba was back in town, as were a lot of people, but she’d never tried to put the moves on him before.

  “Oh, gosh, Stan, I think I need another beer and then a dance.” Myra smiled at Reyn. She barely gave Reba a nod. “Congrats again, Reyn. See you soon.”

  “Thanks, Myra,” he said. “‘Night, Stan.”

  Stan gave him a Sorry, buddy! look, but followed his wife toward the bar.

  “So, Reyn, how about that dance?”

  “I’d rather sit this one out, Reb
a, but I’m sure you can find another partner.”

  She smiled a catlike smile. “I would’ve thought you’d enjoy a more…robust partner, instead of the little mouse.”

  Dammit, she was up to something, but what?

  “You flunked the test on that one, didn’t you, Reba, when we read The Mouse That Roared?” Annie took his arm on the other side. “Never underestimate the mice.”

  Reba let out a full-throated laugh, which held an edge of anger, but she let go of Reyn. “I concede, for now,” she said, but her fingers caressed his arm. “Maybe I’ll catch you under the mistletoe later, Reyn. For old times’ sake.”

  Reba was about twelve feet away when she bumped into the town’s most disreputable fisherman. He was a man who’d just as soon cut your line as look at you, most said.

  With a whiz and a sparkle of magick, a kissing ball popped into existence above the two malcontents. The fisherman scowled and Reba snarled, but they kissed anyway.

  They broke apart with a look of genuine surprise. Reba glared toward the balcony where a cluster of witches stood, and shook her fist before hurrying out of the ballroom. The fisherman set down his drink and followed her.

  Annie tapped his arm. He gave her his full attention. “I may not be much, Reyn Shapleigh, but for right now, I’d appreciate a favor.”

  “What?” he said, wondering what the hell had just happened with Reba, and why Annie looked so intense.

  “We have to be together a lot for the next two weeks, at least. If you could stay out of any other…romantic entanglements. I’d be grateful.”

  He turned to face her. She was blushing, and standing very still as if holding herself in, but her eyes were fierce. Annie wasn’t a mouse. Not to him. To him she looked like a falcon which could sit so still that no one saw it until it struck. “I don’t know what you mean by not much,” he said, putting air quotes around the words. “But the only person I’m involved with right now is you.”

  He was about to say more when another one of the magick mistletoe balls stopped to hover over them.

  Reyn smiled. “I think I’ll get to prove my point.”

  ####

  Annie was still in a slight state of shock the next day. She didn’t know what to think. Or how to feel.

  “He kissed me,” she told the cats. “Four or five times. And we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

  Her ginger cat, Weasley, rolled over on the bed, and Annie nodded. “Yes, some of the kisses were with the mistletoe as incentive, but not all of them.” She frowned. Why had he done that? The kiss he’d planted on her after the incident with Reba had been possessive and hotter than hot.

  When they’d broken it off, there had been applause from nearby tables and from people watching them from the dance floor. They’d both been claimed for dances within the next few minutes, but he’d kissed her after that too––once when she came back into the ballroom after a visit to the powder room, and another incredible kiss as she got her coat and was about to leave.

  “It’s a little more intense than common courtesy,” she told the other cat, the calico she’d named Picasso before she’d realized it was a girl. Picasso was sitting on the sink watching her put on her makeup. Annie was getting ready to head for the Yule court meeting. Why she’d agreed to let him pick her up, she had no idea. It wasn’t like the meeting hall was that far. Yes, it was snowing, but still. He’d called it a first date.

  “I decided to go with it,” she told Weasley, who’d joined his sister on the sink. “I’m going to just have fun. I’m determined to live more fully.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “Time to be more bold. Winter queen. Who would have thought.”

  She shook her head in wonder. Men like Reyn usually went for women like her sister, or like Reba. Instead, Reyn had refused Reba and danced with Annie. He’d turned down other women too. She felt the heat of attraction fizz through her every time he touched her. While she wasn’t inexperienced when it came to dating or sex, it had been a while. It had also never felt as intense as it did with Reyn.

  Annie was ready and waiting with her usual box of baked goods when Reyn pulled up to the front of the shop at ten minutes to ten. He helped her into the high seat of the truck and handed her the box of baked goods once she was settled.

  “I know I called this a first date, but it’s not much of one. Are we still on for dinner?”

  Annie beamed. “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll have to come in your shop when we get back,” he said, when he got into the driver’s seat. “I’ve never been in.”

  “We don’t open till twelve on Sundays.” She fastened her seatbelt. “This is a big truck.”

  “I sometimes have to go off-road,” he said, shooting her a boyish look. “I still volunteer on woodland fire crews all over New England in the summer, I’ve done it for years, so the truck comes in handy.”

  “It’s really high up.” She looked out the window, happiness bubbling inside her. “It’s fun to see everything from this vantage point.”

  They chatted about who had come home for the holiday and who had been at the Ball. “Reba was one, of course,” she mentioned, just to see what he’d say. “And I saw some guys who were in my class in high school. I saw Helen Simpson too.”

  “She was alway a piece of work. Did you see Calliope Jones?” he asked, turning into the parking lot of the coven meeting hall. “That Helen chick made a scene with Hancock Robb.”

  Annie was struck for a moment by the fact that Helen had come up for the third time in a week. How odd.

  “Calliope still has her interesting sense of fashion.” Annie envied that wide streak of individuality. She gathered her things, and he was there to take the bakery box, and offer her a hand to climb down from the truck. “Thanks.”

  “Do you always bring baked goods?” He kept the box, carrying it for her as they walked in. Most of the court was already present, judging by the cars, with some stragglers pulling into the parking lot as they walked in.

  “Generally,” she admitted. “I run a cooking shop, which pretty much guarantees I like to cook, but it’s just me at home. Cooking for one isn’t that fun. When I can do it for a crowd, it makes me happy.”

  “Great reason. Where do you want me to put this?”

  They walked into the main area, hanging their coats in the coat and cloak room. “Over on the table by the coffee pots is fine,” she said. “I’ll pull the plates I stacked in the box out in just a second.”

  “There you are!” Winona pounced on them the moment they appeared in the main room. “Give those to Patty, she’ll set them out. You two come with me.” She turned to scan the group. “Jim! Beryl!” she called, summoning summer king and queen. She motioned them to catch up, and led Reyn and Annie into the smaller working chamber.

  Everyone shook hands and Annie introduced herself to Beryl Chambers, the summer queen. “We haven’t met before, but I’m happy to meet you.”

  “Absolutely, young lady,” Beryl said, laughing. “This has been huge fun, and I’m glad I was chosen.” Her eyes twinkled. “It let me poke my nose in all sorts of places I never expected to, and now, I’ll have to come into your shop and see what that’s about.”

  “We’ll be at the winter market too,” Annie said, warming to Beryl immediately.

  “Yes, and I’ll be coming over to your booth for some of your signature coffees,” Winona interrupted. “But in the meantime, let’s get you two acquainted with the wards.”

  “The wards?”

  Winona nodded and Jim and Beryl simultaneously rubbed at the centers of their chests.

  “You know about the trouble right around the Witches Walk?”

  “The murders, yes. That pain,” Reyn said, rubbing at his own chest. “Is that associated with the wards?”

  “It is,” Winona confirmed. “Let me start at the beginning,” she said, smiling at Annie. “Annie, you’ve probably heard about the wards for the last few years that you’ve been in the Main Haven Harbor Coven.”
She looked at Reyn. “Are you at all familiar? You don’t get to many coven meetings.”

  “No, I don’t have a lot of magick.”

  “You’ve got enough,” Beryl said, laughing. “I’m a solitary witch. Didn’t think I had much magick to speak of, though I love the seasons and the rituals. Well, lo and behold I got the feeling I had to go to the MidSummer BBQ and Field Day event and blammo, ended up the summer queen.” She shook her head. “Guess I had magick enough after all.”

  “What do the wards have to do with the court?” Annie asked, baffled.

  “The king, queen, and their court, are the guardians of Haven Harbor’s protective magick. There’s a warding––a very strong magickal protection––around the town, following the waterways that are three sides of the boundaries of the oldest part of the town.”

  “The Merrimack River, Haven Creek, and..?” Reyn ticked off the waterways, but couldn’t think of the third.

  “Founders Creek, which was much bigger in the founders’ day. And there’s a small tributary creek that crosses the northernmost boundary, which we use to protect the landward side. Right now, Jim and Beryl hold the protections. They will know instantly if something evil is crossing the barrier.”

  “Evil?” Annie questioned. “Seriously?”

  Jim was the one who answered. “Yeah, it seems like a strong word in this modern, enlightened era, but our ancestors fled from a pretty nasty thing, some say a demon, and many think it’s still seeking us. Either way, whatever was possessing Pastor Walthers, and had him killing those women at the Witches Walk was connected that evil.” He rubbed his chest again. “Believe me, when he crossed the town Outer Ward it hurt me.”

  “Like a spike in the chest,” Beryl added. “Thought I was having a heart attack. Then I realized it was the Outer Ward. Could’a knocked me over with a feather. I mean seriously. I believe in magick and warding and all that, and bought it that the town had some protections, when I got the summer queen gig, but damn.” Her emphasis had them all laughing. “When that whatever-it-was hit the big Outer Ward? It was like all the red-alert buttons got hit on my magick.”